The Games Had Begun
by Sallen
Summary: The 74th Hunger Games Bloodbath through the eyes of District Four's male. One-shot.


As I fasten the knot around and around my index finger it hits me once again that _this_ will be that _last_ reminder of District Four I will get. There are no _ifs_ about getting out alive - the Careers' interviews made that quite clear…

"Winning not only keeps you alive," That monster from Two had said in his discussion, "But it also gives you recognition. Meaning that you're _not_ just one of those future tributes that are obviously going to be killed within the first few _days_. It says that you're a fighter. And that you're glad to be one."

Sadly enough, even if the Careers had found it enjoyable and accurate, it seemed to not make a rather first-rate impression on the rest of us.

But the time is running low, now only forty-five seconds before the initial bloodbath. The opening of the Games.

Surymie, my district ally who is only about three years older than I am, glares at me from _way_ down the line of tributes. Her body is shaken, light brown eyes saying exactly what means so much at the time: _Good luck_.

I can't help but smile.

Right at my side, the boy from Three is eyeing the silver plates that we're forced to stand on, possibly trying to configure a strategy at the _last_ minute... Without the plates, we'd be in about a billion pieces. Without a strategy… we have no more of a chance at winning like that little girl from Eleven.

Heck, I'm the same age as her…But I'm a head or two taller though…

"Thirty-seven... Thirty-six… Thirty-five…" That girl from One is whispering by Three's right who still stares down, avoiding her glare in whole. It's loud enough for the next few tributes in the line to hear, causing a bit of intimidation creeping up my skin.

_Careers_…

The cocky attitude ends up being the cause of your death -Titus from Six had learned that the hard way…an avalanche had to take _him_ out- and that's what the Careers' disposal will be…

That girl, Glimmer, won't even get to witness the _glorious_ Capitol-like structures of District One again…

…Just like I won't be able to see the sandy beaches and metallic docks from District Four again. The sounds of distant-but –still-there songs of mockingjays flying over the sea, presiding over us like protectors instead of menaces. And of course there's the sea…

_Five_.

I have to grab a spear - clambered along the sides of the Cornucopia…

_Four_.

I have to avoid the Careers. They'll go after any tributes in their way.

_Three_.

I have to sprint like the wind, avoiding contact with _anything_.

_Two_.

I know my family is watching…

_One_.

…And I know they're about to see me sprint faster than the rest of the tributes.

Then the gong sounds, releasing us all.

I'm one of the first to jump from our silver plates and dash down to the Cornucopia, my head bobbing as I recall the correct way to run without fatigue.

Surymie flies out in front of the lot of tributes, her dark hair swaying none too slightly as she struggles to get away from a grinning… Clove. Glimmer bounds after the supplies, practically shoving a tribute out of the way, her small hand slamming against their shoulder with brute strength.

_Better to be shoved than shot_...

By the time the Career guys get to the Cornucopia by their allies, they are releasing stored power from all those years of illegal training. Cato reaches for a machete, anticipation conquering him, and with one swing a tribute falls - dead.

Whoever wins will have to realize that these tributes will be dead… but certainly not gone.

I slide past the Careers and sneak into the golden horn. It's actually packed with all sorts of supplies - knives, first-aid, spears, matches, tents… - and I grab the entire amount I'm somewhat sure my small arms can handle...

Closer to the forest the girl from Twelve and the boy from Nine struggle with an orange backpack, every amount of strength being applied. Then Clove comes up from behind…

And there's another corpse on the ground, a sharp, unforgiving dagger in the back…

Turning my back from the brawl was the least of my worries at the time, but when a large shadow casts over me…

…I know I've made the mistake of my life. Pulling a camping pack over my body, I attempt to hide from the tribute, but when I twist my head to face them a smirking Cato looms over me with a slick machete. "…The best part next to winning…"

He raises his weapon, letting it cast over me as I'm paralyzed, and plunges it into my body.

Cruel, but thankful thing is: I didn't feel a thing - not during or after the process.

I don't even recall my cannon - which most likely _didn't_ even appear…

_So much for making an impression…_

_**Here's the disclaimer: THG IS NOT MINE! (I'm aggravated at the moment)**_

_**I got lazy at the end, but here's to all you D4 lovers...**  
_


End file.
